What May Turn Darkness into Light
by Ellen Fitzwilliam Brandybuck
Summary: Rescued from certain death, she no recollection of her past and must rely upon a handsome stranger and his family. As she regains segments of her past and former allies reappear, she can't help feeling that she is much further from home than expected. Then they are all thrust on the front lines of an ancient feud and she must fallback on a former life to survive. Brd/OC Fili/Sigrid
1. Far From Home

_This story is in some ways a continuation of "What May Turn Ice into Fire" and in other ways a stand-alone story as well. So if you haven't read the other story fear not, you don't have to unless you so desire, you will still be able to follow along with this story. I own nothing but my OC's and the rating is based off of violence, some language, and sexuality. I welcome critiques and praise both, I prefer the former as it allows me to perfect the craft and the story. Hope you enjoy!_

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_"No one…waited for reparation from his plundering claws…that shadow of death hunted in the darkness…"_

The phrase echoed away into the darkness and a shape, perhaps that of a man, shifted back and forth in the shadows before her. There was a distant drumming sounding louder then fainter then louder once more, keeping time with the shifting man in front of her. From his lips she heard the words, "Qatsi'nangwa*" repeated over and over again in a melodic chant. The dark shadows behind the shifting, near shapeless, chanting man morphed into a spiral, glowing bright red and spinning faster and faster as the drum beats grew more frenzied, the chanting from the man also increasing in volume and energy. Suddenly the spiral winked out, the drums ceased, and the man stopped his movements. When he finally moved towards her out of the shadows she did not see the face of a man but instead what looked to be a benevolent sun, half white and half red, with six sets of three pronged feathers bursting out of his face on all sides. The sun opened its mouth and spoke, "Naavaasqatsi*." Next, ears of of fiery corn fell from the sun's mouth and drowned her within their golden shapes. The weight of corn pushed her backwards and once more she was falling through the darkness...

The force with which she returned to the land of the living was such that it pained her. The air rushing into her lungs was too fast, the return of her heartbeat was too solid, the sensations of sound and pain and smell reported to her brain by her senses nauseatingly strong. She gripped hard the object in her right hand and reached over with her left to latch onto it as well, as if to anchor herself more fully this side of death. It had been death where she'd been. The man, the sun, the drums, all of it had been the threshold of death.

"Sshh," a deep voice from above sounded in her ears, "be still. You are safe now."

She tried to use her grip on the object, now recognizable as a hand attached to the voice, to sit up but she stopped when another hand gently pressed down on her shoulder to keep her lying on her back. As she continued gasping in air, unsure of how long she'd been without it—or even why she'd been without it—she also tried to regain control her heartbeat and breathing. She'd been dead, or near enough to it, she felt that keenly in every molecule of her body. Something strange had brought her back from the shadows and the benevolent sun-man guarding the way, and now she lay cold and wet on a hard surface with no notion of what had transpired prior to her waking or why it was she was waking with a man at her side. Her mind could only recall the death-dream and the present moment. That very realization had her heart speeding up and her grip tightening once more upon that man's hand who had yet to move away.

"Ssh," the man's voice again sounded next to her and she felt his hand briefly pass over her forehead as if checking the temperature.

Whilst she began to meditate on her heartrate in order to slow it down, she blinked the world into focus. The first object to be fully formed in her sight was that of the man: mid to late thirties, shoulder-length black hair, with contrastingly bright blue eyes, age and weather-worn wrinkles set about his lips and eyes, and with a firm grip set about her hand. His expression was that of unhurried concern and confusion, as if he felt both in equal amounts, and though his visage brought forth no recollection from her muddled mind, she felt immediately a deeper sense of peace when his features came into better focus, gathered directly from his presence by her side.

"Wh-" her throat burned as if she'd last used it to scream and she raised her left hand to press it against her neck.

The man reached down with his free hand to smooth some of her hair away from her face—she'd not been aware of it being there until he did so, "Don't try to speak too suddenly." He began to pull away and she immediately tightened her grip on his hand. He must've sensed her panic as he offered her a soft smile and squeezed her hand in response. "I am only going back to my boat to get a flask. I will return."

The soothing quality of his voice combined with the earnest nature of his face gave her the courage to let go. Indeed, he was only gone long enough for her to manage to push herself to a semi-seated position in order that she may look around at her surroundings. She first glanced down to see that she was wearing a grey/green tunic and brown breeches with moccasin like boots laced halfway up her calves. At the sight of them she felt strange, as if she wasn't accustomed to wearing such clothing. As she gingerly drank of the strong drink mixture in his flask once he'd returned and handed it to her, she looked around. She was on a rocky riverbank, a thick forest to her left and right and directly in front of her. Handing the flask back to him once she felt the scratchiness of her throat ease, she fought a newfound panic at the realization that she didn't know where she was.

She looked back to the man who had since crouched down at her side. Seeing the confusion in her face, no doubt, he leaned forward and spoke, "I fished you out of the river along with the barrels." He pointed just over her shoulder, in the general direction of where he'd disappeared to moments before, and she carefully turned her head—mindful of the cricks and pains the movement caused—to see his boat and loaded upon it numerous barrels. "Are you injured?"

She closed her eyes briefly, in order to assess all her limbs, and found that aside from soreness, over-extension of some of her joints, and what felt to be a few abrasions or cuts on her back and side, she was unharmed—just bone-deep cold. She shook her head, still unsure if her voice would work properly just yet.

The man nodded, his expression one of relief. But then he glanced down at the river again and his voice held a note of cautious curiosity when he uttered his next question, "How did you come to be in the river?"

She opened her mouth to answer but stopped. She couldn't remember. Whereas before she'd only known of the death-dream and the current moment, she realized now that her mind was becoming a befuddled mess of strange faces that were somehow familiar and equally strange places that also struck a familiar cord with her, mixed together with unknown and unfamiliar ones. She could recall that her grandfather had taught her healing techniques and that she could wield a knife expertly, but she couldn't remember where he grandfather was or why it was she knew how to wield a knife. Neither could she recall her name nor how she'd come to be floating in a river with barrels for this man to find.

She felt the warmth of his hand on her back and glanced over at him in response. He was making that shushing sound again and it was only then that she realized she'd begun to pant, this time out of panic.

"There is no need to fret. You are safe with me and I can help you return to your people. Only, we should move quickly as daylight will soon be lost and the voyage back to Laketown is not an easy feat at night."

She felt him shift his body weight in order to stand. She quickly reached up and took hold of his wrist to stay him. He paused in his movements and waited patiently as she swallowed past her panic, and still sore throat restrictions, in order to speak.

"I don't know."

He frowned and repeated her statement, "You don't know?"

"I don't know how I ended up in the river." She paused to swallow again. "I don't know where my people are." She looked back up at his face after her eyes had wandered to the river momentarily. "I don't even know who I am."

She watched as his facial expressions morphed from shock to confusion to one of what she assumed to be firm resolve. He leaned down then and took hold of her shoulders and helped her stand, accepting the majority of her weight on his shoulder when she near toppled over almost immediately. He steered them both towards his boat and she didn't fight his unvoiced decision; she had no other option aside from lying by the riverbank to freeze to death. Once onboard, he reached inside a small box near the bow of the ship and pulled out an old burlap. Quickly he wrapped it around her shoulders and bid her sit near the stern. She watched quietly as he finished loading and securing the barrels, all the while recalling other tidbits of information about herself. She came from a loving family with very strong traditions that centered on nature and other worldly realms-perhaps that had been the foundation of her death-dream. She was unmarried and had no children and couldn't recall ever being involved or interested in someone romantically. For some reason she recalled strange machines that flew in the air and raced across the ground on four wheels but couldn't remember their names, and their forms seemed strange in juxtaposition with her current surroundings.

"Do you remember anything now?" The man asked once he'd pushed away from shore and the boat began to drift further into the lake's interior.

She frowned and shook her head, "I can recall little details here and there but none of it seems related to each other and none of it seems to be helpful right now either." She rubbed her fingers against her temples, the beginnings of a headache coming on.

"Well at least you can talk more now," when she glanced up at him he offered her a small smile, "and don't try to remember everything at once. Maybe once you've had a warm meal and good night's rest you'll remember more." He gave a quick nod with his head, as if by doing so he could make it so. She wished it could be so true and so easy.

"I don't want to be a burden to you." She suddenly realized that he was most likely taking her to his home or something along those lines. She had not been long acquainted with him but there was something about his nature that made her certain that he had now assumed responsibility for her safety. While that was heartening it also had her feeling exceedingly guilty. She'd not long been of the world, in the present state, but she knew enough about herself to know that normally she could take care of herself. "You have already done so much."

His sharp chuckle had her looking back towards him again. "I merely pulled you from the waters and by tonight's end I will have given you food and shelter. That is not much." He paused long enough to steer the boat around what looked to be the remains of a once great tree still decomposing in the lake. "You will not be a burden. In fact, I'm certain Sigrid and Tilda would love to have more female company, if only temporarily."

"Who are they?" the names were strange as she repeated them in her mind, as if they belonged to a culture not her own.

"My daughters. My son Bain may not be as keen, though, since he finds his sister's company tedious enough." His lips quirked upward in a half smile and she felt her own lips mirror the motion.

"And what of your wife?"

The smile disappeared in the same instance that he jerked the boat around another floating object, the action sudden and it near jarred her from her seat. He didn't offer an apology, instead he kept his focus on the water, as he continued to maneuver the boat through the floating debris. She got the feeling that she should not have asked that particular question and yet, how was she to know not to ask?

"My wife died some time ago. It is just myself and my three children now." His eyes finally moved from the horizon back down to her and the formally hard lines in his face softened a little. "You will not be a burden for as long as you need to stay."

She broke eye contact first, giving a nod before resting her eyes on the horizon as he'd been doing. The weather grew steadily colder the further from shore they traveled and she wrapped the burlap tighter around her. Her clothes were still damp, though not soaking as they had been before, and combined with the chill in the air it caused her whole body to shake and her teeth to clack together. The man had little more to offer her by way of warmth and comfort and so could only, on occasion, inquire after her well-being. She appreciated the gesture, it was very telling of his gentle nature, but the gentle rocking of the boat hypnotized her away from the pain in her body and soon enough she was lost once more from the wakeful world.

When she woke again it was to the man's shaking. She could see his lips moving but her mind was so fuzzy that she couldn't understand what it was he was saying. She tried to stand up but fell backwards, her body no longer responding correctly to her bidding. She felt on fire at the same time she felt filled with ice. Behind the man she saw three more forms appear on what looked to be a dock. More voices, murmured as if from a distance, and then suddenly she was weightless. Vaguely she was aware of the fact that she couldn't very well be weightless, that it had to be the man who carried her, but her mind refused to focus on one thing long enough for anything to register clearly.

She was taken upwards then, inside a room or a house, and then laid upon something soft yet cold. The man began to move away, it had been the man carrying her after all, but she reached out and with the last of her strength she held onto his arm. He couldn't leave her now. He said he'd help her. He said she wouldn't be a burden. He said-

"Sshh," his hand smoothed across her brow and she felt a sense of peace almost immediately, "be still. You are safe now."

She fell back into the darkness that bid to her, clinging to the hope that by the morn his words would prove true.

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_*These are Hopi words that denote the belief in a life cycle/life force and communal living and care for one another. They have a strong belief and affinity for spirals signifying life's journey. And they worship the sun, since their culture is based on agriculture, and many of their religious symbols feature various depictions of suns._


	2. A Meal and a Bath

_Thank you for your reviews, if you've given them, and I hope you enjoy the reading even if you haven't. For reference sake, the main OC looks like the actress Stefany Mathias. The words/names I use later are taken from a list of Easterlings names and are pronounced "anna" or "kay-tun." Thank you for the reviews and encouragement. I hope you enjoy the update! Cheers!_

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_"__So many wonders befell him in the hills, it would be tedious to recount the least part of them."_

Coming awake again was not so sudden as it had been by the riverside, but she was just as disoriented, what with having the strange quote dancing around in her head seeking a source in the recesses of her still jumbled mind, and also having a set of blue eyes staring down at her when she opened her own. She blinked a few times, wondering if the hovering eyes were just a figment of her still slightly feverish imagination, like the ghostly quote, but no they remained, and drew closer in fact even after she blinked her own a few times.

"Are you an elf?" the hovering eyes drew back to reveal a child's face, perhaps nine or ten years of age, with brown hair and softly rounded features. She could immediately see a resemblance to the man who'd rescued her. She knew this girl to be one of two daughters the man had spoken of before, but she couldn't recall a name to attach to the face she now looked at.

She shook her head but then paused before answering, the world spinning momentarily in response to her slight action. "I don't think I'm an elf." She opened her eyes and saw the girl still perched on the side of her bed staring at her. "Why do you ask?"

The girl smiled, "The clothes that Sigrid and I took off you a few days ago." The girl gestured over to the side of the room and she looked to see her tunic and leggings folded neatly on a chair by the window. "They look like something an elf would wear, at least that's what Da said." The little girl frowned, momentarily leaned closer, and when she sat back again she shook her head. "But your ears aren't like what Bain said an elf's should look like."

"And how should an elf's ears look like if you've never seen one?"

"Pointed of course." She continued to stare at her unblinkingly for a few moments longer. "You're also not fair and tall like what the stories say either. And I heard that elves were supposed to have magical powers that kept them from getting sick. You're too dark and short. Sigrid is almost taller than you in fact, and you've obviously been sick."

She was saved from having to reply by the sudden appearance of another girl, of lighter complexion and older age, "Tilda! You shouldn't be bothering her with such nonsense. Can you imagine waking up after being sick and Bain or I were hovering over your bed ready to insult you?"

"I wasn't insulting her." The younger girl, Tilda apparently, looked back to her with a sincere frown. "Did I insult you?"

She shrugged, "To be honest, I don't even remember what I look like so it would be difficult to be insulted, even when compared to something else I don't know."

Tilda's mouth dropped open, "You don't remember what you look like?" She looked over to the older girl, who had brought in a tray with what looked like soup and a mug of something to drink. "Sigrid, she doesn't remember what she looks like!"

"I heard." Sigrid set the tray down on the small table near the bedside. "Now can you please find something else to do for a little while and give her some time to recover before you pester her again?"

Tilda looked ready to argue but Sigrid crossed her arms over her chest and glared away any argument. Tilda sighed and trudged over to the door, leaving it open as she moved through and began down the stairs just outside. Tilda's head had just about disappeared down the stairs when suddenly she popped back up again and near shouted her next question.

"What's your name?"

Again she was saved from having to answer when Sigrid threw up her hands and stomped over to the door, muttering as she went. "Tilda! Go find a fish downstairs and bugger him with your questions and leave the woman be!" Sigrid slammed the door and latched it, though she got the feeling that if Tilda wanted to come in again she could still manage to find some way in.

"I'm sorry if my sister was a nuisance to you, and so soon after you finally woke up too." Sigrid was speaking again as she moved back to the bed. "She's been the one to come in and out the most, making sure you weren't," Sigrid blushed suddenly before she finished her sentence, "dead."

She'd not been offended by anything that'd been said thus far but the reminder of her sickness had her troubled, "Was I truly that close to death?"

Sigrid nodded as she pulled up a chair to sit next to her bed, pulling the bowl of soup into her lap. "Da said that if we hadn't gotten some of those herbs down you, or rubbed the poultice on your chest when we did, you might've died."

She glanced down and noticed that her chest looked bandaged and figured that the poultice was underneath it, against her skin. Her whole body felt itchy and filthy, most likely from the numerous sweats her body had been through during her fever. She figured that even if she had been tall and fair, as Tilda claimed elves should be, she'd still look rotten at this point.

"Is it true then?" She looked back to Sigrd when she spoke up. "You don't remember who you are or where you've come from?"

She sat up a little straighter, leaning her back against the wall, and accepted the bowl from Sigrid before she answered. "Just as I told your sister, I also don't remember what I look like, or my name for that matter. I can remember shadows of events and piece together faces of people I must know but I can't connect any of it." She lifted the bowl, as if to apologize for cutting off the conversation, before diving into it—her stomach reminding her quite strongly that she'd hadn't eaten in a long time.

Thankfully, Sigrid did not sit quietly while she ate. Instead she took the opportunity to acquaint her with the comings and goings of the household.

"You met Tilda of course. She's the youngest. She's not always so chatty but she is always very curious and imaginative and that can sometimes bring about trouble. I'm afraid she never had the opportunity to be around our mother's guidance like Bain and I did. I've done what I can to try to imitate what Ma would've done with her but sometimes I forget, you know, what she looked like, sounded like, that sort of thing." Sigrid swiped a hand over her hair, as if to tuck in stray strands of the fairly curly tendrils she'd looped up into a bun, before she continued. "Bain is the eldest and the most like Da I suppose. He keeps to himself as much as he can and always wants to accompany Da on his trips but Da says he needs to stay and watch us; he seems to forget that I'm near of age already and Bain only gets in the way around here anyway." She'd finished the soup and Sigrid quickly took the bowl away and handed her the mug. "Then of course you've met Da. He's known around here as 'The Bowman' but the few people he considers friends just call him Bard."

She finished off the spiced cider Sigrid had filled the mug with and also handed it back, "And this is Laketown? I think I remember your father calling this place by that name."

"Aye, this is Laketown. It was built in the years after the destruction of the city of Dale, the results of the dragon Smaug." She drew back at the mentioning of a dragon. She had no reason to doubt Sigrid's tale and yet the presence of a dragon within Sigrid's story had her hesitating in belief. "But it's been many years since then, and I wasn't even alive when that happened. All I've known is Laketown, and this house." Sigrid frowned suddenly. "If you don't know your name what is it that we're to call you while you're here?"

She frowned and rubbed the tips of her fingers over the course blanket as she thought. There were no names that came immediately to mind that seemed to match her; in fact, the only names her mind was registering were the ones that Sigrid had just told her. It was as if all that existed in her mind prior to being rescued from the river had been washed away by the river water, with only remnants left behind in pools here and there scattered around inside her.

"I honestly don't know." She looked back to Sigrid and sighed. "What do you think my name is?"

Sigrid drew back and again ran a hand over her head as she thought. She sat quietly, for there was little else she could do to offer up choices, and waited for Sigrid to speak again.

"Years ago, so long ago I barely remember, there was a group of people who came through here who looked similar to you, but with darker hair and skin. They wore strange clothing, all robes and veils, and when they walked it sounded like bells were attached somewhere to their clothes. They were traders from far away, Da said, and had come not knowing that Dale had been destroyed so many years before." Sigrid shrugged. "I suppose it takes a long time for news like that to travel wherever it was they came from. In any case, I grew curious over what was in their bags and while I was looking in one of them an older woman, one of their people, caught me and I thought for sure I'd be punished, accused of being a thief or something. But, even though I couldn't see her face, I could see her eyes and they were kind. She spoke to me with a very heavy accent, I almost couldn't understand her, but she asked about my family and where they were. When I told her that my mother had died only a few months before she'd whispered a word to me and told me that it was from her language. She said it was both a term and a name, as in their culture people are called by their status and have hidden names." Sigrid closed her eyes, as if by doing so she could access her memory better. "'Ana-katun' I think is what she said. It means mother and woman, though I'm not sure which means which to be honest."

She frowned and tried to see if the words registered in her own mind but they did not. She did feel, however, that between the two words the first was most likely 'mother' and the latter 'woman.' While neither name jogged a memory it was at least better than having nothing to be called.

"I'll go with Katun." Sigrid smiled, her look of relief near comical. "Now that we have my name figured out, how long have I been here?"

"About two days."

Katun frowned, "No one has come looking for me in that time?"

"No," Sigrid shook her head, "no one's come into Laketown other than those who live here and since everyone knows everyone here we know that no one here knows you."

It took Katun a moment to follow Sigrid's logic but she nodded once it became clear. She already felt more lively than she had upon first waking, and being bombarded by Tilda's innocent questions, the soup and cider doing their part to invigorate her. She glanced around the room and noticed that the decorations, though sparse, seemed to be too masculine to be either Tilda or Sigrid's room.

As if reading her thoughts Sigrid spoke up, "This is Da's room. It is the most private and he figured you'd need the silence and privacy if you were going to make a full recovery." She leaned forward to add. "And in this town privacy is a rare commodity. I'm surprised that no one has barged in here demanding to know who you are. Even though Da brought you in after dark I'm sure at least some of our neighbors saw you."

"Where has your father been sleeping?" She felt guilt itching around in her chest, not liking the idea of having kicked a man out of his own bed. While she hadn't been of this world for long she knew at least enough about her previous self to know that she'd been self-sufficient and would've been loathed to have thrust a man out of his own room for her sake.

"Oh he's been bunking with Bain in the loft," She pointed towards the door and upwards. "Tilda and I are downstairs nearest the stove. We keep it going in the night and Da wants us to stay warm too so that's our lot."

Katun did not feel a kinship towards the lives these people lived, she did not feel connected to the names, the history, or the very place. She felt as disconnected and confused now as she had when she'd first woken up. Only this time she did not have the man, Bard, by her side comforting her with his words and his hands. His daughter, for as sweet as she was, offered little of this.

Katun scratched at her head, "Do you think there's any way I could get a bath? I feel disgusting."

"Of course! It won't be fancy, if that's what you're used to," Sigrid blushed when she realized the connotations of her comment then hurriedly continued, "but Tilda and I can bring the tub up here for you and heat up some water over the fire."

"That's too much trouble!" Katun frowned. "Isn't there some place downstairs I could have a quick wash without being too much of a nuisance?"

Sigrid tipped her head to the side for a silent moment then smiled, "Bain is off at the market and Da is somewhere on his rounds, so only Tilda and I are here for now. Neither Bain nor Da should be back for at least an hour so we should be able to help you get a good wash in before they return."

Katun smiled, already grateful even though the process of getting out of bed and moving down the stairs was difficult and relatively painful. She started shivering while waiting as Tilda hauled the tub out from under some bench and moved it to a small alcove with what looked like a sheet thrown over a wooden rod the only thing making it semi-private, and Sigrid took it upon herself to heat the water. Once this was finished the girls made themselves scarce, Tilda going upstairs to be "lookout" while Sigrid moved to the other side of the first floor to ready the meal for her father and brother's return.

Tilda was right, Sigrid was almost taller than herself, but as Katun undressed behind the thin sheet, she noticed numerous scars marring the skin that moved over well-defined muscles. She may not remember where she came from or who she was before the rescue but wherever she came from she must've had a hard life, if the number of what looked like knife wounds or strange starburst-like scars had anything to do with it. Also, the fact that she could clearly see the definition of her muscles in her thighs, stomach, and arms, led her to believe that perhaps she'd been a warrior of sorts, and most definitely NOT someone used to "fancy" as Sigrid had feared.

It took some strange maneuvering to set herself up in the tub without falling over. It wasn't long enough to stretch out in, only large enough to crouch down in, and when standing up the height of it only reached the bottom of her knees. It was better than nothing though and after the initial rush of sensations, some painful and some not, of getting into the water passed, she picked up the cloth Sigrid had left behind, along with the soap, and set to scrubbing.

By the time her skin was pink from scrubbing, and her scalp tingled as well, she felt like a new woman. She didn't know how long she'd been in the water but she feared if she stayed any longer she'd risk running into either Bard or Bain. Katun stepped out of the tub, careful not to step backwards too far for fear of of coming out from behind the sheet, and struggled to get the nightdress back over her head, a difficult task now that her body was wet—that was one thing Sigrid had forgotten, a towel to dry off with.

She'd just jerked the dress over her head and shoulders when her feet lost their footing on the now damp floor and she felt herself falling backwards. She reached her arms out to grab hold of the sheet but this helped not and within seconds she was on a fast journey to the ground. Only she never hit the ground. Instead, when she opened her eyes, she felt two arms, entrapped in the sheet, holding her around her rib cage. She jerked her head to the side and looked up, appalled to see the face of her rescuer staring back down at her in equal surprise.

It seemed to take him a moment to realize exactly what had happened, why it was he was now holding her—he had most likely been passing through the hall when she'd fallen into him—and also her state of indecency. He quickly pushed her upright and away from him. Katun pushed the nightdress the rest of the way down her body, still a difficult task, though now because of the useless sheet entangled around her feet.

"My daughters have been looking out for you?" He spoke over his shoulder, she noticed, when she turned to face him again, as if to give her more privacy. She smiled at the gesture.

"Yes. They've been most attentive." She looked down at the torn sheet and frowned. "I'm sorry."

He glanced backwards then looked down as well. His lips quirked upward in a half smile. "Not to worry, it can be mended." Bard stood up to his full height and faced her. "I trust you feel better?"

She nodded, "I do, thank you. It appears that I don't have all my faculties about me yet." She indicated the sheet and for a moment it looked as if the man blushed as he looked away. "And I still don't remember anything useful. Your eldest daughter, Sigrid, helped give me a name until I can remember my own. Katun." She watched as he mouthed the name, as if testing its qualities, before nodding his assent. "Did you not see her on your way in?"

The girl in question suddenly appeared around the corner, her hands flying up to her face in horror when she spotted the two of them. She looked between Katun and her father, then down at the pathetic sheet on the floor, and she shook her head—her expression now a mixture of horror and amusement.

"I didn't hear you come in Da. I'm so sorry." She came forward and took Katun's hand. "Tilda got her finger stuck in the old weave upstairs and I had to rescue her. I was only gone a moment." She looked down at the sheet then back up at Katun, the horror giving way to full amusement. "I really am sorry."

"You certainly don't look it." Her father chimed in, his face now holding a trace of the girl's amusement as well. "Is supper ready yet?"

"Just about."

"I'll look after it while you help Katun back upstairs where she can find something warmer to wear." He gave Katun a slight nod of his head before he pushed past, difficult to avoid touching each other given how narrow the quarters were.

At his suggestion Katun looked down and felt herself blush. The dress, due to the dampness of her skin, had grown near transparent, and it was a wonder that the man had even managed to converse with her intelligently for as long as he had. Sigrid kept silent about that particular fact as she quickly helped her back up the stairs where Katun wished she could crawl back into bed and only come out once Bard's mind had been washed clean of everything that had happened so far that day.


	3. Head Tax

_Just an FYI: the story about Katun's friends is up and finished in "What May Turn Ice into Fire." You don't have to read it to understand this but it'll prove entertaining in-between updates and may shed some additional light on previous events. Thank you for your patience and continued interest in this story. Let me know your thoughts on character development, and perhaps even some requests for future interactions between both the OC and regular characters. Cheers!_

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"Have you seen anyone like her before Da?" Tilda asked from somewhere behind him. The girl was rarely in one spot for very long (a trait she'd inherited from her mother) so Bard could only assume that she was in the process of setting the table for dinner since the beginning of the question began off to his right and ended off to his left.

He shook his head and answered after he finished taste-testing the stew, "I have not." It needed more spice but they had little offer by way of that, no funds to pay for such things, and so it would have to do.

"What does she look like?" His son Bain asked, having already sat down at the table.

"She's rather dark." Bard looked at Tilda over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows. The girl swallowed and quickly added. "I mean her skin is darker than ours, like she's always in the sunshine or something akin to that. But she's pretty, in an exotic way. She's not very tall though; she has broad shoulders and," Tilda stopped and Bard glanced at her over his shoulder to see that she was touching her own hips, "she's wider here too." Bard hid a smile and went back to stirring the stew. After Bain quieted his chuckling Tilda continued, "Her hair is beautiful though! Thick and dark like the night sky. Her eyes are darker than most that I've seen too. Her voice, well the way she speaks, it is as if she's not used to speaking our language."

Bard was impressed that his youngest had noticed and cataloged that much about the woman, and in such a short amount of time. Granted, she and Sigrid had been the two caring for her since her arrival. After he'd deposited her in his room that first night, the girls had taken over without prompting, only asking for help a few times when it came to lifting her up so that they could change out the bedsheets. He'd been right in his assumption to the woman earlier, that both Sigrid and Tilda would enjoy having another woman around. Even though she had only awakened that day, just having her in the house seemed to bring an extra ounce of confidence and surety to both of his girls that hadn't been there before.

Aside from the generalizations of her physical features that he'd seen in glimpses and the few times he'd spoken with her (he tried to shove aside the image of her half-naked in his arms just minutes prior), Bard had not had the time or opportunity to discover near as much as Tilda had. All he knew was that she had no recollection of her family, her home, or how she'd come to be in the river, dressed in elven clothing, near dead. The only reason she had a name now was because of Sigrid. Bard couldn't help but feel pity for the woman. He also couldn't imagine what fear she must feel being at the mercy of him and his family. Though it was not often an opportunity to extend the hand of friendship towards another without risking it begin bitten off came upon him, Bard would be damned if he let this opportunity pass him by. If he wanted his children to understand any shred of decency or honor, in spite of where they lived, then he would ensure that this woman was cared for.

"Tilda," Bard gestured towards the bowls on the table and waited until the girl brought them over before he spoke again, "has she remembered anything since she's woken up?"

Tilda shook her head, "No, not that I know of. Every time I asked her a question Sigrid got mad at me and told me to go pester a fish."

Bard gently stroked his hand across her hair before he handed her one of the filled bowls, "I'm sure she was worried that your questions were coming too quickly."

"Perhaps." Tilda deposited the bowl then quickly returned for another. "Sigrid helped name her." Bard waited until she returned for another bowl before he prompted her for the name, though he already knew it. "Oh, Katun I believe is what she chose. Not sure why though, Sigrid told me to go upstairs to clean up the attic while she helped Katun bathe so I didn't have a chance to ask."

Bard's hand faltered a little at the mentioning of Katun's bath but Tilda didn't seem to notice, merely receiving the bowl and setting it in place on the table. The only other woman he'd held in his arms in such a state as Katun had been earlier had been his wife, aside from his daughters when they'd been wee bairns. While he had earlier made an effort and succeeded at blocking the image and feeling from his mind, both now came back to haunt him. He shook his head until he regained his composure and finished the last of the bowls before setting the lid back on the pot. Bard made eye contact with Bain before pointing towards the bread basket, prompting the boy to slow get up and retrieve it. The sounds of footsteps on the stairs just then alerted them to the return of Sigrid and Katun and Bard rose slightly from the table when they came to stand just at the foot of the stairs. He noticed that she was dressed once more in the elvish clothing and when he looked to Sigrid for an answer she sighed.

"I'll have to alter a few of the old dresses I'm afraid." Bard looked back to Katun and saw the woman blush. He realized then that she was indeed only marginally shorter than Sigrid but her build was significantly different than any of his daughters, or even that of his wife. Tilda had been correct about her shoulders and waist. They were not unattractive in the least, the long dormant side of his mind assured him. Bard shook his head against the thought and smiled at Katun, forcibly moving his gaze away from her waist and back to her face. "Please, come sit."

Katun gave a shy smile and did as he bade, Sigrid close by her side. Only once she was seated across from him did he also sit.

"Why did you stand like that Da?" Tilda asked once Bard resumed his seat.

Sigrid answered before Bard could, "A man always stands when a lady comes into the room." She glared at her brother and Bard watched as Katun tried to hide a smile.

"What?" Bain looked confused and sheepish at the same time.

Bard reached over and ruffled his hair, earning a grunt of dislike from the boy. "It's okay son, these things you'll learn with time." He picked up his spoon and began eating the hearty stew. He waited a few moments before he spoke again, "Have they told you anything about Laketown yet?"

"Yes, Sigrid gave me a brief history lesson." She took a bite of the stew and Bard watched as a look of extreme concentration crossed her face while she chewed, the process of swallowing appearing to be a chore to her.

He raised his eyebrows when she made eye contact with him again, "Is the stew too much for you?"

"I don't think it is the stew," Katun took a quick sip of the cider Sigrid had placed in front of her, "I think it is the meat. I don't think my body is accustomed to eating meat."

His children exchanged a barely veiled look of surprise while Bard merely nodded, his eyes traveling down to take in once more the design of her clothes, before he leaned back again. If she had lived amongst the elves for a time it would make sense that she would have grown unaccustomed to eating meat such as what they ate. The elves of the forest, from what he'd been told of those who'd managed to get a closer look, ate primarily vegetables and fruit with simple game supplemented. Their fare in Laketown primarily consisted of fish or salted meats from back on shore. Sigrid got up and immediately took the bowl away from Katun before she could even begin to protest. Tilda was the first to speak again while Sigrid moved back towards the cooking area.

"Why don't you eat meat?" she asked.

Katun smiled at her. "I'm not sure. What I do remember of my people is that they are very connected to nature and perhaps being so connected to nature resulted in their giving up eating meat."

"That's strange." Bain commented. Bard shot his son a glare and his son quickly added. "I mean no one around here is like that."

Katun gave his son a smile as well, "Then I suppose it would be strange then."

Bain smiled and went back to eating. Bard gave Katun a small nod and waited until Sigrid gave Katun another bowl, this one sans meat, before he continued eating. He studied her carefully, doing his best to take in near as much detail as Tilda had. Though she'd been sick and unconscious for most of their acquaintance, Bard was aware enough of her form to know that she was strong beneath those clothes and he wouldn't have been surprised to find that when she wasn't fatigued and weak from illness that she moved with the poise and grace of a warrior. However from the slow way in which she now ate, and how concentrated her efforts seemed to be, Bard got the impression that Katun was much more fatigued than she'd like to let on. He knew any one of his children would begin pestering her again with questions and so decided to divert their attention.

"Bain, you'll accompany me on my route tomorrow." Bain looked up with eyes wide with surprise. Bard seemingly ignored the boy's delight (though he felt satisfaction over pleasing his son so easily) as he spoke to his daughters. "Tomorrow both of you will work on altering some clothes for our guest and take her for a tour of Laketown. Some fresh air will do her some good I believe." Both girls nodded, Tilda more emphatically than Sigrid. "Just don't go too far or do too much. I believe our guest needs a few more days of rest before she'll be fully recovered."

Katun's smile was one of thanks, "Thank you for your kindness Mister Bard. You've already done so much for me."

"Bard." He nodded towards her. "Please, just call me Bard. And I've not done anything that any other ordinary man would not feel the need to do."

She opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by a harsh knock at the door. Bard exchanged glances with each of his children but none of them gave an indication of expecting anyone. Bard stood and went to the door, which shuddered from another knock. He placed himself between the door and its view of the table before he opened it only slightly. The unwelcome visage on the other side of the door had his tension relenting, only slightly, and instead was replaced with annoyance.

"Is that the proper welcome a servant of the Master of Laketown should receive?" Alfrid Lickspittle tried to push his way around Bard but Bard shifted his weight to bar his way.

"What is that you want at this hour, Alfrid?" Bard continued to shield his family, and Katun, from Alfrid's view even when the man became more agitated in his attempts to get by him.

"You know that each household pays a head-tax." Alfrid finally gave up trying to get by and instead crossed his arms over his chest. "It has come to the attention of the Master that you've one additional head in your household now."

"I don't see the correlation between the two." Bard kept his voice even.

Alfrid wagged a finger in Bard's face then, "Oh yes you do, Bard the Bowman. An additional head means an additional tax. The law is the law and every citizen must obey the law. That is the only way the Master may maintain the peace and tranquility that we have in this most beauteous town. If you don't pay, she can't stay." He tipped his head up and grinned with delight over his most likely rehearsed little rhyme.

"Is that all?" Bard still kept his voice even, steeling his features against the urge to snarl at the weasel of a man.

Alfrid seemed taken aback by Bard's outward calm and faltered for words for a moment before he finally settled on, "The Master expects the addition tax come three days' time. Failure to pay will result in property seizure, as is written in the law."

Bard nodded, "Understood. Good night Alfrid." He shut the door before the man could say anything else, bolting it quickly just in case he tried to push his way inside again. When he turned to face the others he saw a look of pain on Katun's face. "What's this?"

"I cannot inconvenience you any longer. If I am to be a financial burden then I'll move on and-"

"Move on where?" Bard stepped closer to the table and stared down at the woman. "You have no knowledge of your home or your family. You have no means of payment or protection. No proof of identity or papers for travel." With each additional fact thrown in her face she seemed to lose more and more energy. Bard crouched down beside the table then and reached out to take hold of one of her hands. Though it was small he felt calloused strength in her fingers when he curled his own around them. "I cannot in good conscious allow you to leave here until you have some certainty of where it is you can go."

"But the tax-" Her voice was weak and he saw fatigue and fear both in her gaze as she stared back at him.

Bard squeezed her hand and placed his other on top of it, holding it between his own, "Don't fret over that. With Bain able to help me now we'll be able to pull in more work than before." He looked over to his son and watched his son nod reassuringly. He looked over to his daughters and they too nodded. "We will all work together to see this through, Katun. Consider this your home and we your family until you find your own."

She looked at a loss for words, her eyes traveling from his face to the faces of his children. When she looked back to him he saw a tear slipping from the corner of her eye and he wiped it away without a second thought. Perhaps when he was alone in the dark, waiting for sleep to reach him, he'd ponder why it was he felt such a need, a duty, to protect her, to stretch out his already thin resources in order to aid her. Now however, such questions were pushed from his mind. He only wanted her to be reassured and at peace.

"No more talk of your leaving." It was a statement and not a question and her smile in response made his own broaden. He gave her hand another squeeze before he stood to his full height again. "Now let's finish our dinner. We," he looked to his son as he re-took his place at the table, "have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow."

They fell back to eating in near silence then, the children being the ones to break it now and again with jests and challenges thrown across the table over this or that (as was typical for near every meal of theirs). Bard stole another glance at the woman sitting across from him and saw that she was watching him with a strange expression. When she noticed him looking at her she blushed and returned her attention back to eating, answering now and again whenever the children asked her opinion on their arguments. Bard also resumed his meal but the earlier questions he'd set aside came back. What was it about this woman that was so intriguing; that made it so easy for him to want to help her; that allowed him to loosen the ties he'd kept on his guard for so long? Those answers, he supposed, would only come as she found the answers to her own questions as well.


	4. Nighttime Discussions

_This is a new segment I decided to insert before my previous chapter four. My apologies for those who have read through before, for the false hope of an update in furthering of the storyline. For those of you newcomers, enjoy as you go. Please review/critique as you see fit. Cheers!_

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"Pssst."

Sigrid rolled away from the noise and tried to fall back into the fitful sleep she'd been having.

"Psst." There was only a slight pause, most likely for breath, before the noise sounded again. "Psst."

Sigrid didn't bother to open her eyes or roll over. She knew the annoying sound belonged to her sister. "What is is Tilda?" She felt her sister roll around on the bed behind her and very soon felt her sister's breath fanning across her own cheeks. She cracked open one eye to see that Tilda had sat up and was now leaning over her, her eyes alight with delighted mischief.

"I think we should do something."

Sigrid closed her eyes again, "You always think we should do something. Now can we do that something tomorrow?" She shifted her body forward, trying to roll away from Tilda without having to roll over the bed in order to do so.

Tilda was having none of that, however, and surprised Sigrid when she laid hold of Sigrid's shoulder and rolled her back onto her back. Sigrid opened both eyes then and blinked up at her sister in confusion. Her sister now looked determined and Sigrid knew well enough that whenever Tilda was determined something drastic was bound to happen.

"What is it that you're on about, Tilda?" Sigrid gave up her attempt to sleep and instead joined her sister in sitting up on their bed.

"I think she's perfect."

"Who?  
"Katun."

Sigrid frowned, "Perfect for what, may I ask?"

"For Da of course!" Tilda smiled in the face of Sigrid's continued confusion. "Don't you see? She's practically been gift wrapped for us!"

"No," Sigrid shook her head, "I don't see how her accidental appearance has anything to do with da or gifts." Sigrid frowned. "Why would she be perfect for da?"

Tilda sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, "You're older than me and you can't see how lonely he is?" Sigrid continued to frown. She still wasn't quite following Tilda's line of logic. "He only has us, Sigrid, you, me, and Bain. He lost mum years ago and there's been no one since then. And he only barely has friends with the townsmen. Don't you see that he needs a friend?"

"So you think she's perfect for him, as his friend?"

"Maybe more," Tilda smiled, "I like her Sigrid. I know we haven't known her for long, and even she doesn't know herself well yet either, but I think it could work. Don't you?"

Sigrid closed her eyes momentarily. It was true, what Tilda said, about their father not sharing any sort of friendship with people of the town. There was mutual respect or the like but nothing akin to friendship. And it was equally true that in the years since her mother's death she'd never seen her father so much as look at another woman with any sort of romantic interest. Sigrid wasn't selfish enough to think that her father should remain a widow for the remainder of his days. In fact, that thought pained Sigrid the more she contemplated it. He wished for each of them to marry well and have their own families and if that happened then what would be left for him? An empty house in which they would all occasionally visit? She shook her head at the thought and banished it. No, Tilda was right. The timing of Katun's arrival and the very nature of Katun herself was too well-matched to overlook. She'd seen the way her father took to Katun. It was a natural inclination towards her that Sigrid had never seen her father have towards anyone aside from herself or her siblings. Tilda, though her approach was immature and hasty, was onto something for certain.

"Well?" Sigrid looked back at her younger sister's expectant face. "Are you going to help me make it happen or what?"

Sigrid smiled, "Tilda, tomorrow we shall do something."

Tilda hid her face in her pillow to muffle her own squeal of delight, earning a chuckle from Sigrid. Both girls curled close to one another for warmth, and comfort, and soon drifted to sleep with dreams of just how it was they were going to lighten the dark world their father had come to live in with the presence of none other than Katun.


	5. Shared Sunrise

_For those of you who've read before: I added a new, short, segment prior to this. So sorry for the false hope of moving forward with the story just yet. Some of the backstories for canon characters may be AU but bear with me eh? Please let me know what you think of the story thus far with reviews/critiques. Cheers!_

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The stars screamed out their brightness from the darkened sky above when Katun emerged from the house. The hour was late, or early depending on how you looked at it, and Lake Town was still abed. There were few lights lit in the town, allowing the starlight to be that much brighter and for Katun to feel that much more isolated despite the fact that she was surrounded by the hovel homes of the townspeople. Her sleep had been restless, filled with more images of people she felt she knew but all without names or connections to her present circumstances. She'd woken in a panic, her hand reaching for a weapon she no longer had, and had lain on the bed for some time after with her body thrumming with pent up adrenaline. Knowing that it'd be useless to remain in bed with so much nervous energy, she'd tiptoed down the stairs and past the sleeping forms of Sigrid and Tilda where they were nestled close to the warm stove. There'd thankfully been a cloak near the door that she'd snagged and now draped about her shoulders, though it offered her very little protection against the bone-deep chill that crept around her on the night breeze. She'd been outside only a few minutes and already she couldn't feel the tip of her nose and her lips were beginning to feel numb. She was loathed to return indoors however and so she glanced about for anything that could distract her from the cold.

When her eyes fell upon what looked to be a staff leaning against the railing she smiled. She tied the cloak more tightly and reached for the staff. Well-weighted and well-worn from use, it was perfect for her purpose. She balanced the staff first in one hand then tossed it in the air and caught it in the other hand, balancing it there as well. She grabbed hold of both ends and stretched her arms behind her body and then brought them back in front again, repeating the motion a few more times until her shoulders felt warm. Katun closed her eyes as her fingers sought out an appropriate grip upon the staff, her body beginning to move of its own accord in spite of her blocked memory. She shifted on the balls of her feet and lunged forward, releasing a series of thrusts and parries with the staff, before moving backwards and doing the mirror image of her forward attacks but in a defensive stance. Twirling the staff with her hands, Katun pivoted on her heel and tracked an imaginary foe as s/he circled her. "Seeing" an opening with the imaginary foe she attacked again, this time utilizing both the staff and her natural body weight with a series of staff thrusts combined with kicks and blocks. She continued the imaginary sparring until she no longer felt the chill in the air, until her muscles began to unkink themselves from the atrophy they'd fallen into during her bedrest, and until her mind began to feel more at ease than it had since she'd first awakened.

She only stopped when her body reminded her that she still wasn't at full health levels, a sudden bout of fatigue near sending her crashing into the side of the house. A warm body and a strong pair of arms saved her the discomfort and Katun looked up to see that Bard had for the second time that day managed to rescue her from falling—though thankfully this time she was clothed.

"Oh." Was all she managed to say as he helped her stand upright again, his hands a little slow in letting go of her shoulders as her body continued to sway. "Thank you."

Bard smiled, "Do you often come out in the dead of night to fight invisible enemies?"

"I don't know." Katun stared at the staff for a moment before she shrugged. "Maybe I did once."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset-" He held his hands up as if he could brush away the supposed offense.

Katun reached out and laid a hand on Bard's forearm, "You didn't upset me." She squeezed her hand against his arm before she let go. "I honestly don't know if I did or not. But it seems that I was skilled with fighting though." She replaced the staff against the railing and pulled the cloak tighter about her shoulders. Her body was still warm from the exertion but she knew soon enough the sweat would cool and she'd grow chilled. In spite of that though she still didn't want to return indoors, especially not now that Bard was with her. She frowned and looked over to the man. "Did I wake you?"

"Being a father of three, I am easily awakened." He gave her a smile. "When I heard the door close I wasn't sure who it was who'd left and it actually took me a moment to remember that you were staying with us." He sounded apologetic and Katun shook her head but Bard continued. "In any case, it still surprised me to find you out here armed with a staff, about to take off the head of anyone who happened to get too close." Katun chuckled. "I don't think I've ever seen a woman fight like that before."

"So it isn't common amongst your people, for a woman to be a warrior?" she asked.

Bard shook his head, "There are some lands further east of us here where it is rumored that women fight alongside men as equals and even that some of the women command armies and kingdoms." He studied her silently for a moment, reminding Katun that the starlight was bright enough for him to see just as many features upon her body as she could see upon his—and she still found that she admired his features greatly. "Perhaps you are from those lands."

"Sigrid thought similarly, hence the name. But that doesn't solve the mystery of why I was in the river, and alone."

"And dressed in elven clothing."

Katun nodded but then frowned after a moment, "I can't even picture what an elf looks like. Are they short?"

Bard laughed, "No they are quite tall and otherworldly looking."

"Do they have pointed ears?"

Bard nodded and added, "Some are said to be so fair that one look casts an enchantment upon the observer."

"Maybe I became enchanted and nearly drowned from it."

Bard laughed again, "Not likely but it is most curious that you would be drifting downstream from King Thranduil's lands."

"King Thranduil? The name seems to echo faintly with a memory but it doesn't seem to be as deeply rooted in my mind as the others that are trying to come back."

Bard moved to the railing and pointed across the rooftops in the general direction of where they'd sailed from the days prior. "King Thranduil is the elven king who rules the forested area on that side of the lake. It was once called the Greenwood but recently more and more people have begun to call it Mirkwood. Our hunting parties have come across bands of orcs and goblins more in recent years than ever before and we've even found signs of giant spiders nesting there."

"That doesn't sound particularly pleasant." Nor did it sound plausible to Katun. For some reason her brain couldn't compute the words Bard was saying to her as fact but instead was trying to file it away in the fiction compartment of her mind as it had with Sigrid's earlier description of a dragon. "Is this king a kind king?"

Bard looked at her with surprise, "Your memories must've been thoroughly wiped clean if you thought it possible to put the word 'kind' next to King Thranduil's name. He is a strong king, a feared and respected leader of his forces, but far from kind. Very few of our people have seen him face-to-face and those who have wished they hadn't. Our only business with the elves is in trade of barrels and mead. He has a liking for the mead we make, taken from the blooms near the foot of the mountains here, and the deal between Lake Town and Mirkwood was struck up years ago. No one has tried to sever or alter it and I'm fairly certain no one is of the mindset to attempt to do so for fear of incurring the dissatisfaction of the king."

"And the river you fished me out of," Katun came to stand next to Bard, mirroring his posture in leaning against it, her shoulders almost brushing against his, "it can only come from his kingdom?"

Bard nodded. "The tributaries that flow into it are not large or strong enough to carry you. It is possible that you fell in outside of the cavern realm of the king but still that is elven territory and it is impossible to encroach upon their territory without them knowing it." He glanced over at her, "Are you cold?"

"A little." Katun smiled. "I don't want to return inside just yet though."

Bard looked back at the staff she'd set aside then at Katun and nodded. He seemed to understand without specific explanation what it was that had driven her out of doors to begin with. Instead of insisting that she go back inside he instead shifted closer until their sides were fully touching and some semblance of shared warmth could aid her in her fight against the chill. She gave him a smile which he returned before they both looked back out to the starlight reflections upon the calm lake below them. Watching the starlight flicker on the few ripples that the breeze stirred up brought forth an image in Katun's mind that made her smile.

"What is it?" Bard appeared to notice her smile with his question.

"I think I remember something." She closed her eyes in order to formulate the memory into a coherent thought. "A night, similar to this, spent on the lakeside with my family. I don't remember much just the smell of campfire smoke, the starlight reflecting on the water, and a sense of peace and warmth at being surrounded by my family." She opened her eyes and looked over to Bard. "For some reason I know it wasn't this lake though."

"There are many lakes in the world." Bard smiled. "That is a good start though. You're apparently from a place where it gets cold at night like it does here and where there are large lakes. That narrows down the list of possibilities in that it cuts out the Easterling regions; that is primarily a desert region and though it grows cold at night, or so I hear, I don't think it would be the same type of chill as this, nor would it have ample amounts of lakes."

Katun nodded and fell silent again, her mind mulling over the few memories that her brain had offered her thus far, seeking to find connections between them. Some were, as she'd said earlier, more deeply rooted in what felt to be her true past while others seemed more recent and stranger, as if she'd been trying to come to terms with them prior to her accident. Bard shifted at her side and she looked over to him, studying his profile. Even in the starlight she could see the scattering of white hair drawn away from his temples by the leather thong he'd used to tie his hair behind his head. She thought it gave him a more distinguished look instead of making him look aged. The lines around his eyes spoke of a time when there had been more laughter while the lines around his mouth were testimony of the harsher times he and his family had fallen under. He looked at her then and Katun blushed, having been caught in the act of staring.

"What do you remember of your family?" He asked then.

"What do you mean?"

Bard folded his hands together as he leaned on his elbows, "Do you remember a husband or children or just a mother, father, and siblings?"

"I know I wasn't married." Bard seemed surprised at the swiftness of her answer. "I mean I think I know. It just feels like I'd grown used to being alone and that I lived an independent life. Almost as if I lived apart from my family, by choice or necessity I'm not sure, but that that independence wasn't filled with loneliness. And," Katun blushed, "my body doesn't feel like it's given birth."

Bard laughed, the smile on his face doing much towards making him look both younger and full of greater vigor, "I suppose that is something a woman's body would remember even without specific details."

Katun shared in his mirth with a chuckle of her own before she spoke again, "You were present for all of your children's births?"

While he didn't immediately lose all mirth, the question did sober Bard's features and his eyes took on a far-off look as if he'd begun to travel in time. He nodded after a moment, his smile soft and melancholic.

"Sigrid took us by surprise. We'd only just gotten married and begun to settle into our lives together when it became apparent that she was with child. The timing, being so sudden, led to some of the women of town gossiping that we'd shared the marriage bed prior to our nuptials but that wasn't the case." Bard smirked. "Granted it wasn't because of a lack of desire," he looked over at Katun and then quickly looked away as if he suddenly remembered who it was he was talking to, "we just hadn't had the time or opportunity to do such things. Her family were farmers and mine merchants and it always seemed that we were being pulled in two different directions, even after we were married that was the case until Sigrid came along."

Katun nodded and smiled, "I hear that newlyweds can have a difficult time the first few years of marriage if they live too close to their in-laws."

Bard let out a snort. "That is very much the truth."

"So Sigrid," Katun continued after a moment's pause, "took you both by surprise. What about Bain?"

"Sigrid wanted a little brother and kept pestering her mother and I about buying a little brother." Katun laughed and Bard nodded. "Yes, she was certain that we could buy a little brother at the market just as easily as you could fruit and vegetables. In any case, when my wife became pregnant with Bain it took some time to teach Sigrid the truth of where it was baby brothers came from." Bard's smile sobered once more and Katun felt a change come over the man, as if the memories he'd been reliving had taken on a darker note. "Tilda had not been planned for, much like Sigrid, only by the time Tilda came along Lake Town was having a harder go of it. We kept having bad harvest after bad harvest and then there was the sickness that swept through the town that left many family's with fewer members and those that were left behind were weaker than before, my wife being one of them. I lost the last of my family to that sickness and my wife's family had years before that decided to seek out better fortunes elsewhere. They'd tried to get us to go along but it had been my wife who'd insisted that we stay. She wanted to raise our children on the lake." He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment before he straightened to his full height. "Tilda was a beautiful baby though."

Katun also stood to her full height, still much shorter than Bard, and looked up to him, "Your wife died that night, when Tilda was born?" Bard nodded. Katun reached out and laid a soft hand upon his forearm. He didn't look at her right away and Katun waited until he made eye contact before she spoke. "I'm truly sorry for the loss of your wife. Your children are beautiful and while I don't want to presume, I'm sure she would be thankful that you've managed for them as well as you have."

Bard laid a hand upon hers and nodded, "You're right." He patted her hand before looking over her shoulder. "Look." He took hold of her shoulders and turned her until she could look in the direction he was pointing. She could see a faint change in colors beginning in the east and realized that soon the sun would rise. "I haven't stayed up to see the sunrise in many years." His voice was close to her ear and she realized that he still stood close behind her, ever aware of the fact that she had less body mass than he, and had bent down to speak close to her ear. "Usually I'm getting ready for the day by this time."

"Oh," Katun glanced up and angled her torso to the side in order to look more directly at him, "by all means please go about your regular routine."

Bard smiled down at her and took hold of her shoulders once more, angling her back until she again faced the east. Katun smiled and allowed the sunrise to continue in companionable silence with the man behind her. She wasn't quite sure what it was about him that had her so at ease in his presence, in spite of the odd circumstances under which they'd met, but she was thankful that it had been he who had found her. She wasn't naïve and so fully recognized that she was already attracted to the near stranger, and if she was completely honest with herself she sensed that he was also drawn to her. However, whether or not there was a place for him in the mess of her memory-less past or for her in his dire life here in Lake Town, well that remained to be seen. For the time being they both seemed content enough to share the beauty of a sunrise together.

They were also both unaware of a a pair of young faces smiling at them through the window of the house beside them.


	6. Barrels of Dwarves

_Thank you again for your patience and support. Hope you are entertained. Some of the dialogue is taken directly from the film. Please feel free to review and leave critiques for improvement. Cheers!_

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While Bain had been easy to get up and out the door after breakfast, his daughters, during their morning meal, had acted strangely. Or at least, more strange than normal. They'd sat at the table in a fashion not their norm, leaving Bard to sit next to Katun. The woman did not seem to be aware of the change, how could she when she'd only shared one meal with them so far, but Bard was quite aware of it. Additionally, Bard was not unaware of the way Tilda had purposefully bumped into Katun in the hallway, causing Katun to fall into his arms. After the fact, the woman had sputtered an apology, citing her continued healing process as reason for her clumsiness, but Bard had known the truth. Tilda had merely shrugged when he'd sent her a pointed look.

Sigrid had been less obvious than Tilda but even she had seemed to be inclined towards forcing Katun into closer proximity with Bard. Nothing about their behavior seemed malicious, in fact they appeared even warmer and more attentive to Katun than they had been the day before—if that was at all possible. Furthermore, Bard didn't particularly mind sitting near Katun or speaking with her whenever one of the girls opened up a conversation in such a way that he would be impolite to not speak to Katun. It was just that he didn't know the reasons behind their behavior, nor their goal, and so he made a mental note to ask his girls about it once he returned home in the evening.

When he'd left that morning, following after the excited Bain who'd mistakenly left behind his staff and cloak—leaving Bard to take both his and his son's—Katun had followed him to the door to help him balance the items into his arms. It was an odd thing, having a woman to say goodbye to in addition to his children. At her kind smile and well wishing, however, Bard realized he rather liked the change. As he and Bain made their way through his morning work of ferrying supplies hither and thither before working his way back towards the river where Thranduil's barrels would be, Bard allowed himself to think on what his acceptance of Katun's presence meant.

Of course, that could be one of the girls' goals: increasing the bond between himself and Katun to such a degree that neither would want her to leave even if she had the opportunity to do so. At that thought Bard laughed to himself, earning a confused and curious look from his son, the confusion of which he'd waved away with a smile. It was true that he hadn't had the mindset or inclination to pursue a woman after the passing of his wife. He'd been too busy with his children, with their survival as well, to much think about anything like that. Even if there had been a few nights scattered over the years where he'd lamented not having a woman to share his bed with, there hadn't been many options to choose from within Lake Town. Sure there were plenty enough pretty maids in the town but none with the desire to marry a widower with three children. Times were not so desperate as to make that option seem viable for the majority of the available women of his town. Bard had also never been inclined towards slating his physical desires with temporary dalliances as so many of his peers over the years had been. Therefore, he'd been celibate in mind and body for all of Tilda's life.

It surprised him, just how many years had passed, when he took the time to think about it. On some days it seemed just the day before when he'd had the ability to speak with his wife, whereas on others he would struggle to remember what she smelled like or what her laughter had sounded like. It seemed that now with Katun's presence, his daughters were making an executive decision and were inclined towards choosing her as their intended target for his future companion, be it wife or friend, or…in reality he didn't quite know what it was his daughters wanted out of his relationship with Katun, as new as it was.

Even though she had yet to discover much about herself from the past, from her present gentle nature and kindness, it was unlikely that she would be so different even if she did regain memories of her past. Yes, it looked that she'd been a fighter of sorts wherever it was she came from, but just because someone had the ability to fight did not mean that they often went around trying to start a fight. Bard had little worry in regards to who or what Katun was, though he was still quite curious as to why she would've washed down from Thranduil's court. There was no other explanation as to where it was she came from. It was the why a female human, of her appearance and abilities, would be traveling downriver from the elf king's court that had Bard partially concerned.

It was some hours later that Bard pulled the boat up to the dock near the river's mouth. He'd yet to disembark but he still paused, putting his hand on Bain's shoulder to keep him still. The forest was too quiet. Something was amiss. Just as it had been the day when he'd found Katun. Perhaps, and it would be most strange, there was another stranger to fish out of the water today. Not one to throw caution to the wind, Bard grabbed his bow and indicated for Bain to wait where he was. Bain didn't look too happy about that but Bard knew Bain would comply, for at least a little while. With this reassurance, Bard silently moved across the dock and onto land. He'd only just made his way over a knob in the hillside when he caught sight of a band water-logged dwarves hovering on the rocky hillside. He didn't have time to be ponder their presence before his presence was sensed soon after his appearance and one of the older, more powerful looking dwarves made to grab a nearby weapon. Bard released his arrow, his aim true, knocking the weapon out of the dwarf's hand. He quickly drew back with another arrow.

"Do that again and you're dead."

The dwarf looked across to another member of his band and Bard followed his gaze to see a dark-haired, fairly regal looking dwarf rise to his feet. Even from this angle, Bard could tell that this dwarf was a bit taller than the others and from the way he carried himself he was undoubtedly the leader. The other dwarves also began to stand in order to face him, except for a small number near the river's edge. Bard widened his eyes when he realized that one of the individuals lying there was a human male, unconscious from a wound, while beside him was a human female, with another individual, not a dwarf but also not a human, crouched near their side.

"That man is wounded." Bard kept his arrow notched and his aim sure as he looked from one dwarf to another.

"Aren't you a genius." The comment, as odd as it was, came from the human female and not from any of the dwarves. "Did you figure that out from the arrow sticking out of his shoulder or from the fact that he didn't wave at you when you first arrived?"

Bard was spared having to voice a response when one of the oldest looking of the dwarves stepped forward, though with his hands up, "Yes, the man is wounded. There's an orc-band on our tail."

"Orcs?" Bard raised his eyebrows. While he had told Katun just that morning that more goblins and the like had been spotted in Mirkwood, the idea of Orcs chasing after one rag-tag group of dwarves seemed a bit far-fetched.

"You don't think that we did this do you?" The woman spoke up again. She'd since struggled to her feet, the man still unconscious at her side, and now stood glaring at him, her hands on her waist in an undeniably defiant position. Her clothing was odd, not quite elven but most assuredly not dwarfish either. She was taller than even the tallest of the dwarves, though not by much. Her hair was wild about her head, dark and curly, and her skin color was similar to Katun's. At the reminder of Katun, Bard lowered his bow and unnotched his arrow. This group, the mixture of dwarves and human, also washing down from Thranduil's kingdom, was not a coincidence. They were connected, of that he was certain, and these people most likely held the key to unlocking Katun's past.

"You wouldn't happen to be from Lake town now would you?" The elder dwarf spoke up again and again moved closer. "And that barge that I see over there, it wouldn't happen to be for hire would it?"

Bard frowned. While he knew these individuals were connected to Katun, he also knew that dwarves were surly and distrusting of anyone not dwarvish. Once they got an idea into their heads it didn't matter what you thought about it, they would always follow through with their original plan. Bard had no notion of what idea these dwarves were currently following through on and so didn't know if he wanted to get his family involved with whatever it was they were up to. "What makes you think I'd want to help you?"

"Because those boots have seen better days, and that coat too." The elder dwarf gave Bard a tired smile, "No doubt you have mouths to feed. How many bairns?"

As if to answer his question, Bain appeared at the top of the hill, looking down on the group in absolute confusion. Bard gestured towards Bain and replied to the dwarf as his son came closer. "This boy and two girls." Bain came to stand beside Bard but Bard shifted just enough so that Bain was just partially behind him instead.

"And your wife, I imagine she's a beauty."

"Aye," Bard was growing tired of the small talk, "she was."

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't meant to-"

"Oh come on, come on," the human woman stomped forward, "enough of the niceties."

Bard quirked his eyebrows at her, "What's your hurry?"

"Oh well aside from big, ugly things shooting at us-"

"Orcs."

The woman turned to one of the younger dwarves with a glare, "What?"

"The big, ugly things." The young dwarf smiled even though the woman was obviously unhappy with his interruption. "They're Orcs."

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose as she turned to face Bard again, dropping her hand in order to reply, "Right, aside from the big, ugly Orc-things shooting at us, and our near-drowning adventure down this here river," she gestured to the river behind her, "I'd say having a wounded companion is a fairly good reason to hurry."

The dwarf that had originally attempted to fight him off came closer and glared at him, "What's it to you?"

"I would like to know who you are and what you're doing in these lands." Bard crossed his arms over his chest.

The older dwarf laid a hand over his heart and bowed his head, "We are simple merchants from the Blue Mountains and we are journeying to see our kin in the Iron Hills."

"Simple merchants you say?" Bard tried and failed to keep the incredulity out of his voice.

"Dwarves don't often travel with humans." Bain spoke up from beside him and all eyes turned to him. He blushed from the sudden onslaught of attention. "At least not from what I understand of them," he sheepishly added.

The leader of the band finally spoke, "We need food, supplies, weapons. Can you help us?"

Bard looked past the group to the barrels that lay strewn across the shore. "I know where these barrels came from."

"What of it?" The leader questioned in return.

"I don't know what business you had with the elves, but I don't think it ended well." Bard turned his hardened gaze back upon the dwarven leader. "All of Lake Town's business happens by leave of the Master and he'd rather see you in irons than risk losing his wealth from King Thranduil." That much was true. Whether or not he wanted answers for Katun's sake, he had his own future vocation at stake should he chose to help these dwarves in much the same way that he'd helped Katun.

Before anyone could protest the elder dwarf spoke up again, "I'll wager there are ways of entering that town unseen."

"Aye," Bain said.

Bard added, "And for that you'd need a smuggler."

"For which we would pay, double."

Bard highly doubted that amongst the whole lot of them that they had nearly enough funds to pay him anything. But with his son standing nearby in observation, and with the assumed knowledge that these people were connected to Katun, Bard agreed to their proposition. It took some time but with the dwarves grumbling help, the barrels were loaded onto the boat. They were able to travel undetected through the lake's fog until they drew nearer the outermost outpost of the town. It was here that he had the dwarves crawl back inside the barrels. The humans were a bit more difficult. There were only enough barrels for the thirteen dwarves, the not-dwarf-not-human creature, and the small human woman. It would look very suspicious to have a wounded man aboard his boat after a simple retrieval mission. The wounded man, still unconscious, therefore had to be laid on-board with boxes and supplies piled about him in order to hide him. Once this happened, Bard arranged for the barrels to be filled with fish. Of course, he knew he would receive no thanks for his efforts, but he did gain at least a little satisfaction in doing this since up to that moment the dwarves, aside from the elder dwarf and the not-dwarf creature, had been as he'd expected: surly, distrusting, and evasive. Of the human female, he did relent and instead of filling the barrel with fish he instead wrapped it with some burlap and set some supplies on top, making sure to leave some space so that she could breathe. Before they rowed into Lake Town he still heard a few curses from her and he knew he'd not receive thanks from her either.

Bain, for his part, remained quiet and compliant, helping Bard whenever Bard asked him to do so, but he was for the most part overcome with curiosity and apprehension. He'd never accompanied Bard before on his errands and to have this happen on the one time he had ventured out, no doubt the boy was wondering just what it was Bard usually did on his errands. If this was routine or if this was abnormal for Bard as well. His son was not accustomed to seeing his father lie so easily to the inspection's officer at the toll gate, nor was he accustomed to seeing his father adjust to the less-than-legal actions such as he currently was embarking upon when he'd also lied outrightly to the Master's lackey, Alfred when he'd challenged the fish-laden barrels. All-in-all, Bard knew well that eventually he'd have to sit down with his son to talk about what had happened this day.

Once they reached an abandoned dock, Bard had Bain help the dwarves out of their barrels while he pulled away the supplies that had been holding the human female hostage in her own barrel. When she glared up at him, freed as she was, Bard had to bite back a smirk. Yes, she would not be giving him thanks any time soon.

"Bain," Bard turned to his son once the dwarves were on the dock, leaving only the humans aboard the barge, "go get your sisters and Katun. You must get this man to the house, as soon as possible."

Bain nodded and only after looking over Bard's shoulder momentarily to take in the sight of the fish-scale covered dwarves one last time, he turned on his heel and bolted down the rickety docks in the direction of their home. Bard turned and made his way through the dwarves. He would lead them around the longer route to his home, to discourage anyone who might follow them.

"Stay with your friend and my son will be back to fetch you." Bard spoke over his shoulder to the human woman, who looked none too happy with the prospect of being left behind. However, it seemed though surly like a dwarf she could understand sense when it came and so she nodded and settled herself near the unconscious man. Bard turned to the dwarves and whispered, "Stay close." He continued past them along the edge of a building and after peering around it, he signaled to them. "Follow me." He heard some of them speak amongst themselves as they hurried along and he had to harshly call to them over his shoulder, "Keep you heads down and keep moving."

It wasn't enough, however, and soon enough Bard heard the yells of the Master's guardsmen. "Halt!"

Bard glared down at the dwarves, "Come on, move."

He made a gesture towards the market near where they'd been spotted at the same time that he heard another guardsman call out, "In the name of the Master, halt!" Bard only had to make one more gesture before the dwarves scattered into the recesses of the market and Bard was left to face down the guardsmen on his own. He continued on his way away from both the dwarves and the guardsmen, in hopes that he could draw attention.

"Stop him!" It worked and Bard was stopped by two guardsmen barring his way.

"Oi!" Bard turned to face the head guard. He had been a nice enough fellow before he'd fallen in with the Master and his cronies. Now everyone in Lake Town mocked him behind his back. "What's going on here?" He looked around at the marketplace and signaled to his men to begin searching about. "Stay where you are. Nobody leaves."

"Braga." Bard called his name, pulling the guardsman's attention back to himself. "Sorry."

"You?" Braga raised his brows. "What're you up to Bard?"

"Me. Nothing. I'm looking for nothing."

Braga ignored Bard and began to move further into the marketplace where the dwarves were hidden. Thinking fast, Bard reached down and grabbed a sheer chemise to hold up. "Hey Braga." He waited until the man turned to look at him before he added, "Your wife would look lovely in this."

The head guard moved back towards Bard, a confused frown on his face, "What do you know of my wife?"

"I know her as well as any man in this town." Bard managed to maintain his feigned smile until Braga had stomped away, taking the rest of the guardsmen with him.

Not wanting to risk further incursion from the Lake Town guardsmen, Bard managed to convince the dwarves to follow along under the docks and houses as he made his way home. It would not be easy for the dwarves to follow, but then again, it would not be easy for Bard to explain the sudden presence of thirteen dwarves, three humans, and a not-dwarf-not-human creature in his house either.


	7. One Crazed Evening

_There will be some break from the films, as I prefer the book to the films, but also that's to be expected from a fanfic isn't it? Thank you for your continued support; feel free to leave me a message on what you like, dislike, or would like to see more of. Cheers!_

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"Dabroughtdwarvesintothecityandhewantsyoutocomehelp!"

Tilda, Sigrid, and Katun all stared at the panting Bain when he practically fell into the house, alone, and obviously upset about something. Katun had thought she understood the words, and definitely grasped the meaning of urgency, but hadn't quite come up with what it was she was expected to do; she looked over to the girls for a signal of what it was they were to do next. Sigrid jerked Bain further into the house and shut the door, Tilda pouring him a glass of water, as Bain was then shoved onto the bench at the table where the girls had earlier sat working on mending clothes, preparing for dinner, and in Katun's case, sharpening knives.

"Slow down, Bain, we can't understand you." Sigrid crossed her arms over her chest as they waited until Bain finished gulping down the contents of his glass, rivulets of water escaping the crease of his mouth on either side of his face and running down his neck to dampen his shirt. Once finished, he swiped the back of his hand across his face and handed Sigrid the empty container.

"We found some dwarves by the river where Da gets the elvish barrels." Katun tensed then. They'd gone back to where Bard had originally found her. She leaned forward as Bain continued. "They convinced Da to smuggle them into town and he told me to come get you to help the humans that he left with the barge."

"Humans?" Katun asked, her hands tightening on the sharpening tools she'd yet to let go of.

Bain nodded, "Yes there were two with the group of dwarves. One was a man, wounded, and the other was a woman. She looked a little like you." Bain gestured to Katun. "But you're much nicer. She was very rude."

"Well," Tilda called from the door, her shawl already around her shoulders, "What are we waiting for? Da wanted us to go get the humans."

Sigrid pushed the door shut just as Tilda began to open it, "You stay here Tilda."

"Why?" Tilda whined. Katun stood and put away the knives, all except one which she slipped into the pocket of the apron she was wearing. "Da said to help."

"You can help by staying here in case he comes back. He'll have company and most likely the company will be tired, hungry, and thirsty. Also, it wouldn't do for all of us to go traipsing about town looking conspicuous. You need to stay here to keep things looking normal."

Tilda was none too happy with the plan but soon enough Bain led the way as Sigrid and Katun followed along behind him. They moved quickly but tried to look as if they were having an animated conversation—Katun's idea—about the town. Word had spread already, no doubt, that Bard was sheltering a newcomer—thanks to Alfred's big mouth—and they used this to their advantage. Both Sigrid and Bain kept their voices chipper and firm as they pointed out this and that on their way, making sure to speak loud enough for anyone who might stop to eavesdrop or pause to watch them as they passed. Katun didn't mind doing this as it did help her get her bearings; she hadn't enjoyed being confined to the house and not having a clear indication of what was where within the town. It seemed that she liked to have a route in mind, to have an understanding of the layout of her surroundings. Somehow she knew it was because she liked to have an escape route ready, in case retreat was required or in case it was pertinent to launch an ambush. These thoughts were further confirmation to Katun that in her previous life she'd been involved in security and fighting.

"The barge is this way. The man is injured," Bain's voice was hushed now as they hurried between the stilts of houses that were built closer together, creating an airy but narrow corridor through which they'd begun to weave, "and he was still unconscious when we left him earlier."

"And the woman?" Katun asked, her voice equally low, her eyes darting to take in fully their surroundings, ensuring that they were truly alone.

"Well," they came around a corner then and there in front of them was the canal, the barge, and the pair of humans huddled atop it, "it's about time you came back."

When they'd first come around the corner Katun hadn't been able to see the humans clearly, Bain blocking much of her view, but now as they came to stand just beside it, Katun could clearly see the woman as she stood quickly, tensely, her eyes widening and her mouth dropping open. They would all have to be complete idiots to not see that this woman recognized Katun; and they would have to be equally idiotic to see that in spite of that fact Katun still felt no recollection towards the woman. Even when the woman gave out a soft cry and threw herself into Katun's arms, drew back to run her hands over Katun's face and arms, then hug her once more. Katun's hands hovered in the air behind the woman as she began to mumble things about, "thought…lost…how…the king…dead…Jaq…"

"Do you know her?" Sigrid asked Katun but before Katun could respond the woman pulled away and frowned at the both of them.

"What do you mean?" The woman narrowed her eyes at Katun. "Do you not recognize me?"

Katun swallowed then shook her head, "I'm sorry. I don't."

The woman's hand came up to her throat and she let out an airy gasp, "What happened to you?"

"Da fished her out of the river where we found you today," Bain stepped forward into the semi-circle they'd formed, "she'd been injured and was out of it for a number of days with a fever. She only really woke up a day or so ago." Sigrid nodded in agreement with Bain's words. Katun watched the woman as she looked between the two teenagers then back to Katun. Katun hated the look of recognition in the woman's eyes because it made her own lack of recognition that much more painful. "How do you know her?" Bain was asking then, breaking the momentary silence that had fallen over them, the woman and Katun silently studying one another.

"I don't think we should have this conversation here." Katun interrupted. As much as she wanted answers, as much as she needed answers, there was a wounded man on the barge behind the woman, and from the sounds of it he was regaining consciousness. "We need to get back to the house as soon as possible and help this man." She stepped around the woman in order to reach the man's side. She felt only a sliver of recognition pass through her when she bent down to study him and his wound. His eyes opened but it was obvious that he wasn't fully aware of his surroundings, his eyes glassy. He was also covered in a sheen of sweat and he shivered. Katun eyed the gnarly looking arrow that continued to protrude from his body. This type of wound wouldn't render a person this immobile unless the arrow was poisoned. Katun shook her head; how did she know these things? "Sigrid do you have herbs and medicines at the house that can treat poison?" She signaled to Bain to come closer so that between the two of them they could bring the man to his feet.

"We have some, yes." Sigrid also came forward and with the woman, who had fallen silent but studious of the goings on, helped Katun and Bain remove the man from the barge. "Do you think he's been poisoned?"

The man let out a low moan and Katun nodded. She pulled one of his arms around her shoulder and Bain mimicked with the other. The woman suddenly moved forward and snapped the end off the arrow, soliciting a louder yelp from the man. Without explanation, though Katun understood, the woman rearranged the man's clothing to disguise the remainder of the arrow as much as possible. This done the woman looked back into Katun's face and again Katun swallowed against the lump of disappointment that lodged in her throat. She still did not recognize her.

"This way." Sigrid gestured for the woman to fall into step beside her, Katun and Bain with their human burden coming up behind. They were aided in their return by the dying light of day as well as Sigrid's knowledge of backways and more secluded corridors through which they could travel in order to reach the house relatively undetected. They did run into a few individuals but aside from heavy scrutiny, no words had been exchanged.

The lights were on in the house and daylight was well and gone by the time they returned. Sigrid hurried to open the door and then moved aside when Bard immediately came out to help them. The man's weight was relieved from Katun's shoulders and Bard worked with Bain to bring the man the remainder of the way indoors. Katun gestured for the woman to precede her into the house then Sigrid followed last, latching the door tightly once everyone was inside.

Katun stopped short at the sight before her. Thirteen individuals stared back at her from various positions around the kitchen and hallway, some even sitting on the stairwell that led to the second floor. They all, or most, had long hair and bearded faces, and were obviously of a hardened sort with strong, bulky physiques—one even grotesquely overweight. Even though they were sitting or crouching, or lurking in the shadows, it was obvious that they were much shorter than the average human, though because she too was on the short size they were only marginally shorter than herself. It was strange, to Katun, to see individuals dressed like this without some sort of weapon strapped to their body as between the lot of them there were only two or three weapons readily visible. Only one of the thirteen looked out of place from the rest. He was slighter in stature, more gentile in dress, and seemed to have a quietly anxious demeanor as he wrung his hands together, watching as Tilda cleared the table and Bard and Bain laid the wounded man on it.

"Bain, stoke the fire." Bard began to dish out orders. "Tilda, boil some water. Sigrid-"

"I'll get the herbs and bandages." Sigrid interjected, already moving down the hallway. In order to do so she had to weave her way through a few of the newcomers, one of the younger looking ones (and the only blonde), standing and pressing against the wall in order for her to move past.

Katun took it upon herself to gather together bits of food and using whatever container she could find she served the newcomers the stew they'd earlier been making. Only the smaller creature, beardless and soft-spoken, thanked her verbally; the others gravely nodded their thanks. When Katun returned to the woman, who had yet to move away from where she'd taken station by the door, she found that the woman was still deeply studying Katun, a frown upon her beautiful face. She could see some resemblances between herself and this woman in that the woman was also of darker complexion, though her hair was more textured than Katun's. She handed the woman the last of the stew, stopping her movements when a hand touched her forearm.

"You really don't remember me Cha'risa?"

Bard was suddenly at her side, looking between Katun and the woman, "You know her?"

"Yes. She was part of the security team, with Suarez there on the table, who escorted me on my investigation. We were trying to find a patrol that had gone missing from my father's base when we stumbled here." The woman gestured to the setting around her. "I don't even know where the hell we are." The woman shook her head and drew a hand down her tired face. "The elves found us and kept us, not quite prisoners and not quite guests; the cocky bastards. Cha'risa here, along with Suarez, and the captain we'd sought out to find, Jaq da Cunha, worked with the elves on scouting missions in the forest in repayment for their 'kindness.'" The sarcasm dripping from the woman's voice was not lost on the group. "It was on one of those scouting missions that they were attacked by giant spiders." The woman shuddered, her hand coming out to touch Katun-Cha'risa's arm again. "Cha'risa, I was told, was lost in the attack, her body swept down river before anyone could do anything for her."

As the woman had begun to explain things bits and pieces of the images that had haunted Katun's dreams began to form themselves into memories. They were still fragmented, and only a few matched what the woman had explained, and most seemed to come from another place, another time, in another life. Her head began to pound and her vision blurred. She must've begun to sway on her feet for Bard reached out and took hold of her elbow, shifting his body closer until she was near leaning against him in her efforts to remain on her feet.

"Her name is Cha'risa and she is a fighter for your father?" Bard asked, his hand still on her elbow, the warmth of it reassuring.

The woman blinked at them then nodded, "Cha'risa Numkena. She is a captain in the army. Suarez is one of her men." The woman pointed to the moaning man on the table. They looked over and saw Tilda and Sigrid working together with the soft-spoken creature and the blonde dwarf to divest Suarez of his dirty clothing in order to get at the wound. "He was wounded today trying to help us escape." She tilted her head towards the rest of the inhabitants of the small house.

Where Katun, no Cha'risa, now felt some sort of connection with the woman and man, she felt nothing towards the others. They were strangers, she knew that at least, and she had no recollection of ever seeing anyone like them before. Bard left her side then, and turned to face the others more fully. Katun—she really needed to wrap her head around her real name—shifted closer to the woman. Bard was still speaking to the woman when he asked his next question but directed his gaze towards the newcomers. "Why did you need to escape?"

"For myself and Suarez, at least, we were guest/prisoners and after losing both Cha'risa and Jaq, the other human captain, we felt that our welcome with the elves had worn out, and good riddance at that. For my efforts at pointing out how much of a dunce the king was I got thrown into the dungeon with that one as my cellmate." She pointed to one of the dwarves, a dark-haired one who glared daggers back at her. "When opportunity came knocking for a jail break I was happy to be free of that place. Edwin here seemed to have taken to one of the elves and would've been content to have stayed I think. If it weren't for that damned orc-thing making a pincushion of his shoulder."

Bard tipped his head towards the dwarves, "And what of the dwarves?"

"There is no need to ask the woman our business." The dark-haired dwarf spoke as he stood. He had an aura different from the others, one of grave importance, as if he had the weight of an entire race upon his shoulders and the urgency of a dire mission in the light of his eyes. "We already told you where we were headed."

"Why would simple merchants need to escape in barrels from the halls of King Thranduil?"

There was a tense stare-down between Bard and the dark-haired dwarf then, only interrupted by the combined noise of the moaning of Suarez and a sudden knocking at the door. The dwarves all stood as one, glaring at Bard as if he'd betrayed them, but before they could utter an accusation, Katun stepped forward and signaled the dwarves to all move down the narrow corridor and out of direct line-of-sight to the door. The woman also moved away from the door and stood in front of the table, Tilda and Bain coming to stand on either side of her in their efforts to block the view of Suarez. Sigrid had her hand over his mouth, trying to muffle his noises while the soft-spoken not-dwarf creature seemed to melt into the background in his quiet movements. Another knock sounded and Bard, hesitating just until Katun shifted to his side, aiding in blocking further any view indoors, cracked open the door.

Upon seeing the strangers outside, Bard immediately moved the door open further and allowed the two newcomers inside, shutting the door behind them, "Strange night and strange place for a gathering of races. I fear this won't end well." He murmured into Katun's ear alone as he turned to watch the exchange between newcomers and old.

"Tauriel, Legolas." The woman let out the breath she'd been holding. "How did you find us?"

The elf female didn't speak as she moved quickly to Suarez' side, her hands coming up to inspect the wound. It was the elf male, who continued to hover near the door, tense and alert, who replied.

"We tracked the orcs here." He looked down the corridor and saw the dwarves glaring at him.

"Orcs?" Bard growled. "You brought orcs into Laketown?" He directed his question to the dwarves. "Why would orcs want you so badly that they'd follow you down the river, across the lake, and into our city?"

"They know what it is the dwarves seek." The elven male, Legolas, sneered towards the dwarves before his eyes found Katun, a look of recognition and surprise registering on his face. "And they want to finish what they started below the East-gate of Moria, at the Battle of Azanûlbizar."

Katun heard Bard suck in a breath through his teeth, "You are from Erebor." He pointed to the dark-haired dwarf. "You've come to try to retake the mountain."

"It is our right." The dark-haired dwarf growled back in the face of Bard's incredulous anger. "It is our home."

"This is OUR home." Bard pointed to the floor of the house. "And there's a dragon in that mountain. You go up there and there will be hell to pay for us here. Your people's impetuous greed brought destruction upon your own halls as well as the city of Dale. I cannot let you do the same to Laketown."

"We do not ask for your permission to do what must be done." The dark-haired dwarf took an aggressive step towards Bard. "You will not stop us from reclaiming our home."

"Your home is a testimony of ruin and a warning to any who would seek to enter into that tomb of a mountain." Bard argued back. "Only death waits in those halls."

A heavy knock shook the door and all within the house quieted. Legolas moved to stand behind the door and motioned for Tauriel to join him. She hesitated only a moment before she did so, reluctant to leave Suarez' side. Bard had barely had his hand on the latch before the door near banged open into his face. The same sniveling man who'd come arguing over a head-tax the night before was standing on the other side, a group of soldiers behind him.

"The Master wants to see your guests, Bard."

Bard didn't have a chance to argue before the soldiers pushed inside and began to tug at the dwarves. One of the dwarves looked ready to fight, the fair-haired one, but a soldier near Tilda and Sigrid laid his hand upon his sword, and the fair-haired dwarf relinquished his hold of the weapon and allowed himself to be shoved out the door along with the rest of them. Katun stayed by Bard's side and together they blocked the view of the elves who had further slipped into the darkened corner behind the door. Alfred looked at the wounded man on the table then glared at Bard.

"What's been going on here, eh? Dangerous looking dwarves in your hallway, a wounded man on your table, and two strange women hovering around your children. You're getting sloppy Bard." Alfred pointed to Bard. "Bring him, his boy too. The women can stay here with the children. Not likely they'll be going far, not with the dying man."

Before he was pulled out into the dark, Bard's hand briefly sought out Katun's and she looked up to him. His gaze was serious, his expression grave, but the quick squeeze of his hand invigorated Katun with the energy and sense of purpose that she needed to take charge of the situation once he was gone. Then as quickly as they'd come, the soldiers, dwarves, Bain and Bard all left. Katun closed the door and latched it then turned and stared at the remainder of their company. Tauriel immediately returned to Suarez, her hands pulling out herbs from pouches at her side, her voice low as it took up a sing-song chant. Sigrid seemed to shake herself out of the weighty stupor that had befallen her and sought to help Tauriel as the elven maid cleaned the wound and began the process of extracting the arrow. She signaled for Tilda to chip in. A movement out of the corner of her eye brought Katun's gaze to the stairwell and to her surprise she found the soft-spoken creature standing there, his hands wringing together once more. How had the soldiers overlooked him?

"The orcs are still here. Somewhere." Legolas spoke by her side.

Katun nodded but didn't move to leave, "They need protection."

"You protect them." Legolas' voice grew fainter and Katun watched as he moved towards the door. "I'm going to go orc-hunting."

He'd no sooner opened the door when a large, ugly looking creature came barreling inside, as if he'd been waiting to be invited. The woman who'd come with Suarze let out a yelp, the creature coming directly towards her. She reached down and grabbed the nearest object, a metal pan, and brought it up just in time to deflect the nasty looking sword the creature had been about to stab her with. Watching this, Katun didn't waste another moment; she leapt across the room and seized hold of the staff she'd trained with the night before. She turned back around to find Legolas fighting off a second creature in the doorway while the original had pulled back, about to stab at the woman by the table again. Katun used the staff to help her launch into the air, landing a kick in the side of the creature's head before he could bring his sword any closer.

The creature lost his balance and fell upon the floor, only momentarily stunned. The woman, still holding the frying pan, took up position beside Tilda while the soft-spoken creature appeared by Sigrid's side, surprisingly armed with a small sword that looked to be glowing a blueish color. Tauriel continued her chanting as if unaware of the goings on, the arrow out of Suarez's chest and a salve of herbs packed into his wound, Tauriel's hands over the wound and pressing some sort of object against it. The creature scrambled back to his feet and snarled at Katun.

"You'll pay for that you bitch." The creature's guttural voice made Katun shiver.

"Name-calling is so immature." Katun countered, easily avoiding the attack the creature threw at her. A sense of calm coursed through her nerves and a heightened awareness of her surroundings, of her own body, and of the various options she had in attacking the creature came to her. She felt a smile tug at her lips as she felt into the attacks that came to mind, her staff a steady and true weapon even against the sword of the creature. Soon enough she had him disarmed and unconscious upon the floor. She looked over her shoulder to see Legolas panting in the doorway.

"One more ran off." He looked over to Tauriel, who continued her chanting unaware of them all, then to Katun. "He may lead me to where the others are waiting."

Katun nodded, not surprised when Legolas disappeared immediately after. Katun lowered the end of her staff to the ground and looked at the mess the fight had made of the house. The little creature by Sigrid's side blinked back at her, as odd a sight to see after a fight as the two girls and the frying pan wielding woman. She gestured to the woman.

"You, help me get rid of this thing." Katun leaned her staff against the wall and reached down to take hold of the creature's arms. "And Sigrid, you and-" Katun looked expectantly at the little creature.

"Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins."

Katun nodded, "You and Bilbo, help with the other."

The woman set aside the pan and came to help Katun, "My name is Alyse."

"Oh. Sorry." Katun grunted as they began to heave, push, and pull the creature towards the door. "I'm sorry I don't remember you."

Two splashes were the result of their combined efforts to rid themselves of the creatures. Bilbo and Sigrid immediately went back into the house while Katun stayed outside, watching until she was sure the creatures had floated well away from the house.

"It isn't your fault." Alyse's voice alerted her to the fact that she too had stayed outside. "That you don't remember. I'm sure it'll come back to you soon enough. Damned glad you remembered how to fight though."

Katun nodded, "Maybe we'll have more time to discuss what my life was like before but for now-"

Bain came, for the second time that day, barreling up the steps and fell against the open doorway of the house. The chanting from Tauriel stopped and all eyes fell upon the gasping boy.

"Da's been arrested."

Tilda and Sigrid gasped.

Alyse stepped closer, "What of the dwarves?"

"In exchange for a portion of the treasure their leader Thorin said was waiting in the mountain, the Master's given them weapons and let most of them leave. Thorin made the two youngest dwarves stay behind as collateral and they're in prison with Da."

"Oh." They turned to look back at Bilbo when he spoke up. "If Thorin has left for the mountain then that means I should too." He patted his clothing, as if searching for something, then nodded to himself. "I have a contract with him you know."

"No," Katun shook her head, "I didn't know. Why does this Thorin need you?"

"I know why." Alyse spoke up when Bilbo looked reluctant to say. "At least, I know some of why. While we were in the dungeon together Thorin made a quite a few allusions to things that I'm now starting to piece together." She looked back through the open doorway to where Tauriel had begun to wipe down Suarez with a wet cloth. The color of his skin was returning to normal and it appeared he was out of danger from the poison. Tauriel, however, looked beyond exhausted. "I'll take you Bilbo."

Katun stared at her, "Why do you need to take him? What's going on?"

"I can go by myself, thank you Miss Alyse." Bilbo spoke at the same time as Katun.

"Bilbo is the one who got us out of the dungeon and he is the only way that stubborn dwarf and his kin are going to succeed up at the mountain without risking waking up the dragon. If there even is still a dragon up there." Alyse pointed to the simple looking creature only marginally shorter than both Katun and Alyse. "Tauriel isn't going to be much help getting Bilbo back to Thorin looking like that and you need to stay with these kids since you know them, and their father."

"Okay, but I don't understand why you need to take Bilbo. Why can't he go by himself?" Katun looked at Bilbo and while the creature looked sorely out of place for any sort of adventure, he also looked tenacious. "He looks perfectly capable and ready to do so."

Alyse smiled, "Because someone needs to make sure Thorin doesn't go and do something stupid. The others just listen to him; no one challenges him. Stupid hierarchy of leadership."

"And you're going to do that? You said you met him in a dungeon."

"And you get to know a person quite well when in such close quarters." Alyse smiled again then reached out and patted Katun's shoulder. "Really, Cha'risa, I'll be fine. Bilbo has that knife."

"Sword."

"Sharp blade," Alyse rolled her eyes, "and I'll take that frying pan."

"That's our best pan." Tilda cried out from where she stood by the table helping Tauriel and Sigrid with Suarez.

"I was kidding, child." Alyse waved away Tilda's concern. "In any case, if we leave now we should catch up with Thorin and the others and hopefully get this thing over with before tomorrow night."

Katun frowned. How were they supposed to reclaim a mountain infested by a dragon in only one day? There was something more going on here, Katun knew it, but she didn't know enough of the situation to ask the right question in order to find out. Without further reasons to argue she and Bain gathered together a few meager provisions for Bilbo and Alyse to take with them and then Katun stood in the doorway and watched until the two figures disappeared into the night. The answers to her questions had come and gone, and in one crazed evening, and she could only hope that there would be a chance to retrieve the answers again.

"Let's move him upstairs to your father's room." Katun closed the door when she reentered the house and gestured towards Suarez. Bain and Tauriel helped drag him up the stairs while Tilda and Sigrid readied the room. This done, they all returned to the table and sat down, except for Tauriel who opted to remain by Suarez' side once more. No one really knew what to say. Sigrid managed to dish out a few more bowls of stew, Tilda taking a moment to bring Tauriel a bowl then returning, and they each ate in silence.

It wasn't until they'd finished the meal, cleaned up the house, and sat back down again that Tilda spoke up. "What are we going to do? What if there really is a dragon up there? What about Da?"

Katun tapped her forefinger against the table. She went over what she knew of what had happened, what she knew of the history of the mountain and Dale and Laketown, and set about trying to formulate a plan. The children sitting around her began to discuss amongst themselves different ideas, all encompassing breaking their father out of jail. If there really was a dragon in that mountain, and if they got inside the mountain by tomorrow, then that left those in Laketown only the day to prepare themselves for a possible attack. While it was obvious that the Master of the town wasn't bothered by that chance, more interested in wealth than he was in safety for the people, it was equally obvious to Katun that if the dragon had managed to completely destroy a city before, if he was still there, he could do so again.

"Do you think your father would know of a way to fight against a dragon, if it attacked?" Katun interrupted the children after a few moments more of thinking.

Bain nodded, "I forgot! He told me to hide the black arrow." The other three blinked at him. "Supposedly it is the only thing that can pierce a dragon's hide."

"Okay." Katun cracked her knuckles and leaned forward. "Then listen carefully."


End file.
